


Query

by YellAtTheNightingale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fledglings, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellAtTheNightingale/pseuds/YellAtTheNightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel swords are entrancing, especially to those that haven't yet been taught to wield one properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Query

“No… No, you can’t just go like this!”  
A croaking sigh, indeterminable shake of one tiny head. He was going to, and there was no way to reverse it. No one knew with them. Humans…Gabriel thought back, mind clouded…they could be taken back. They could even be fixed. There were always people who came back. But didn’t some of them regret it? He keened, one wing fluttering weakly in a vain attempt to turn himself onto his side, to curl up in a fetal position and hide the pain from his brother. All he managed was to jar the appendage and yelp. He didn’t want to scare Michael, couldn’t let him see this. Gabriel writhed again, body wracked with tremor-inducing pain. Tears sprung unbidden to his eyes as Michael scooped him up, cradled the young archangel.  
“You’re going to be all right, Gabriel, trust me. You’re just…” He flashed through countless descriptions before settling on one of the most innocuous, “Going to go to sleep. “  
Gabriel opened his mouth to deny that when another wave force his teeth to grit together.  
Not gonna, don’t lie ta me. nahsleep. no.  
Michael supported the frail little angel timidly, the nagging fear that he could break was frighteningly real now. They’d said Gabriel was going to be fine, no, why had they lied… “You are, brother, you’re going to sleep this off, and wake up better, all right?” He had to monitor each syllable, steeling himself to keep his voice from wavering.  
Gabriel huffed, ribcage caving in on the exhale, the end of it rattling. Close. No. Not tired. Won’t break. He shuddered, hot tears still prickling at his eyes, and faintly nuzzled Michael’s hand.  
Don’t want to sleep alone.  
Michael choked back a dry sob, the only visible signs of the his building misery a tightening around the eyes. “You won’t be alone. I’m sure there will be someone in your dreams as well.”  
They’ll keep away the nightmares?  
“Yes, little one,” Michael assured him, “They will.”  
Within a few minutes, Gabriel the archangel had quivered to a stop, disjointed and macabre in his death.  
Michael thumbed his eyes closed and wept.

 

No angel dared come near the highest of the orders that day. Each of the archangels, they had mourned the loss in private with the exception of Michael. He had cried bitterly over the fledgling’s body for what seemed an age, inconsolable. That tragedy couldn’t be erased, and there was not mounting an expedition to the deepest levels of Hell to raise him. As far as their knowledge extended, Gabriel was well and truly gone. He’d… Michael shook his head, swallowing. He had tried, Father, had he tried. There was nothing that had healed him and no way to alleviate his pain. Gabriel had died in agony because of his carelessness. Michael had felt that he was just curious, just wanted to examine the blade. He just had to indulge the tot and hand Gabriel his archangel’s sword. The child hadn’t even had his granted yet, and his big brother just tossed him one of the most potentially dangerous knives in existence.  
Gabriel had nicked himself with the tip while comparing arm length with that of the blade. By a cursory glance, it looked like a scratch that had barely breached the surface. Within days, however, he’d began wavering between chills and boiling blood, dry heaving and panting and spells of pure agony. Unbeknownst to anyone before the symptoms, Gabriel had managed to puncture an air sac that lay deceptively close to the surface. The deflation had been gradual, but the infection had not. Before the week was out the promising little fledgling could hardly move, but he hadn’t given in at that point. Instead the stubborn thing clung to life until Day Ten, when our story began.  
Michael rocked back onto his heels, sniffling. The fire had to remain burning for there were duties. He had a greater responsibility than defending a lifeless body. He nodded, and cast the label at Gabriel again, convincing himself that it was all that was: a corpse. Unreachable. Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SORRY. I WILL TRY TO IMPROVE AND BRING YOU GOOD THINGS WITH ADEQUATE SENTENCES


End file.
